You fail at lockpicking. Interrogation

You put your head against hers, trying my best to comfort her... and to reach her handcuffs.

You almost have it when van takes a sharp turn. You both shake and bump your heads and you loose the picks. You still curse through the gag when vehicle stops.

Doors open and two cops get in, each dragging one of you out and separating you from each other. You're lead to an interrogation room, with cop that brought you in standing behind you waiting for someone.

Time passes slowly and you grow impatient. You're not sure if minutes or hours passed in the end. You start to get uncomfortable and might need to go to bathroom soon.

Finally a bored middle aged man walks in with a cardboard folder.

"Right ... Alex" he starts already letting you know they know who you are.
"We have pictures" he says opening folder and showing you pictures taken from the rooftops around your hideout.
"We have the recordings" he puts the audio tape into a recorder that was on the table and plays you a short fragment of your zealous speech from few hours ago.
"Now all I need is a written confession, and you'll get probation. Two years with a tracker and you're a free woman" he says. "Oh and my colleague right now is making same offer to your friend there. If she takes it first, you get 10 years of heavy slavery" he adds with a steel in his voice.

"Here's the pen" he hands you an elegant pen, and shoves the paper with a written confession ready to sign. While at the same time he waves to the guard, who nods his head and uncuffs you.

You lean back, cursing under your nose. "Lets assume I confess. Probation? What's expected of me? Eh?" you say, glaring sharply, leaning in to read the paper he placed in front of you.

"If you want to waste time..." he says in a bored voice looking at the door.
"Probation comes with a tracker, complete nudity of course, and weekly visits of the probation officers. Wouldn't say there's a really contest with slavery though." he adds.

"Well. Even if you last 10 years... What do you think will happen to you after any prospects on life as a former ****? Might as well kill yourself... if you don't do it earlier of course"

You glare at the man full of hate. "I didn't bloody well do anything! Yeah, we boasted! We were kids you know. Yes, I confess to having talked about lots of criminal stuff, but I ain't done nothing eh!" you say, huffing. Glancing over at the pen.

He ignores your puffing, and just leans back, reaches for the pack of cigarettes, but doesn't light one, just plays with one cig.

Suddenly there's a knock on the door.

"Well. Looks like slavery it is for you" he says as he gets up to open the door ...

"No! Come on! I ain't done all that! Get me a correct confession and I will confess!" you say, jumping up, pleading with him.

"That's the correct one." he says standing up in a cold voice his hand reaching for the door. Door at which someone knocks again.

Content Warning! Currently this branch only has a bad ending (mild body ruin) ... and even worse ending (body ruin, ****, slavery, MC ****). Be aware of that